


Warmth

by pally (palliris)



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: M/M, SOF, may be ooc, uhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 09:38:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13143954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palliris/pseuds/pally
Summary: Snow is cold and fire is warm.





	Warmth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hanktalkin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanktalkin/gifts).



> for hank!!!!!!!! this is my part of a christmas fic swap, where i had to write tf2 and they had to write hockey rpf !! neither of us are/were in the fandoms we had to write for, but i thought i was a really interesting thing to research and write about nonetheless ::)) hope u have a muur crimis hank !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! u da best
> 
> (sorry if anything is ooc )

Soldier doesn’t really know why  _ this  _ is the mission they were placed on. He feels the cold seeping through his boots and into his toes, traveling up his calves and running the length of his spine. Even so, he’s always been one for bravado. 

Knocking back a shiver, Soldier clenches his fist and grits his teeth and continues to be on watch. There’s another good few hours before they have to move. The moon is high in the sky, watching him like a swollen dinner plate.

“Ye doin’ alright there?” Demoman asks behind him, and Soldier doesn’t want to turn around because he just  _ knows  _ there’ll be a cocky grin on his stupid face. It’s not like  _ he’s _ the one with a heavy blanket, or anything. 

Soldier just grunts in reply, letting the gruff sound rumble in his chest. There’s a sigh building up behind the sound that he can just barely stifle, so he settles back into the vague comfort of being on watch instead. 

The wind whistles around them in the comfort of the swiss cave, snow falling in large tufts around the entrance. Soldier’s seated at the point where dark rock turns into white ice, but the stone feels just as cold on his rear end as the snow might. His equipment is layed out just behind him; close enough to reach at a moment's notice, but far enough from the snow that it won’t be excruciatingly cold if he needs to pick it up and use it. 

He’s just settled back into the dreary melodies of the raging storm when he hears a cough at his back. 

“Sure ye don’ want the blankie?” Demoman questions again, all warm and intently pleased. His voice is so infuriatingly smug he practically wants to punch the man in the face, if only to see his skin curl and color around his fist. 

“You’re supposed to be  _ resting  _ when I give you a break,” Soldier roughs out, hands twitching once more. 

_“Ooooooar,_ ye could just, ahem-”

“No.” Soldier interrupts. He can already tell where this is going, and he does  _ not  _ like it. Not one bit. 

“C’mon, don’che trust me?” Demoman prods, and Soldier finally turns his head to look at him. 

Tipping his hat up a smidge, Soldier strangles Demoman with a firm glare. There’s a warmth to the man’s body that can be attributed to the orange glow of the candle at his relaxed side, and a thick, fur blanket is draped around his shoulders, light on dark, that engulfs him like a polar bear on a penguin. 

It’s so fucking enviting, and Soldier hates Demoman for it. Really, really hates how  _ easily  _ he caves under Demoman’s dark, intense gaze and sultry smile. A large, terrifying part of himself thinks that this is what he hates most about his own self, but then he remembers his past and nothing seems  _ better.  _

Taking one last look out at the cold, unrelenting mountains beneath them to give himself a small sliver of peace of mind over their safety, Soldier lets his scruples over the situation dissipate. Demoman gives a triumphant laugh as soon as Soldier starts getting up, but he shakes it off like he does with his feet that had fallen asleep. 

The pain prickles along his toes as he walks over to the bundle of flesh and fur, but he quickly discards the feeling as he gets closer and closer to the warmth. 

Soldier spares one last glance at the yawning mouth of the cave, peering at its jagged maw. It feels empty. The darkness of the sky has completely faded out the moon when it isn’t directly in view, so he thinks that he’s truly escaped the eye of god for this brief span of time. 

Demoman’s foot kicks out at his and catches him in the ankle, but he’s not wearing any shoes and Soldier’s got boots on, so. His loss, really. Soldier still takes them off, though, and places his weapons on the ground beside Demoman’s. There’s something intensely satisfying about seeing their stuff together that makes something warm twist inside his stomach that he tries not to think about. 

“Ye jus’ gonna stand there all day, Doe?” Demoman says quietly. He’d been laying on his side but has sat up by now, ankles crossed and knees against his chest. It’s almost endearing. 

“It’s nighttime,” Soldier replies, because he really doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction of being right. Soldier’s giving up enough for this as is to feel even more displaced. 

(Soldier just wants them both to be  _ safe,  _ but apparently he cares more about comfort than composure because this whole ordeal is atrocious.) 

The blanket is, ultimately, so big that as Demoman pulls Soldier close and wraps the blanket around both of their shoulders, it still fits entirely too snugly. There’s a great deal of give left in it, so he wraps his hands around Demoman’s shoulders and pushes him down. Sitting squarely on his knees, Soldier grips the edges of the fur on the right side and pulls until Demoman lifts his back. 

The blanket comes out from under him with quite a bit of force, but it  _ does  _ come. Soldier rests on Demoman’s legs and throws the cover over his own shoulders. 

The two sit there in silence. It’s not awkward, but it feels stringent nonetheless. Like there’s a pulse in the air that fills the space like a loud heartbeat. Soldier thinks it might be his own, ringing in his ears. 

It would be so easy to do something right now, in this position. He never really ever tried to; not before Demoman, at least. Had never really  _ wanted _ to. 

With Tavish, he always seems to just-

Fall apart. 

(And it had been that way from the very beginning; had always fought his inner morals when it came to being a part of Tavish-and-Jane, would never count on being anything  _ but. _ The friendship had kicked off in spite of tremendous odds, and fate had tempted it once, but not anymore.) 

Leaning forward, Soldier lets his hat tip off his head and into his hand. Places it down to the side and pats its shiny top for good measure. He feels exposed like this. He loves it. 

Demoman’s calloused fingers come up to grip the fabric of Soldier’s thick trousers, kneading his palms into the fabric. He seems to quiver under the touch, like a bow pulled taut. The heat and tension seem to build as he stares down at the man, before he finally lets his arms go limp and they fall to his side. 

The first breath of fresh air is his clothed dick rubbing against the line of Demoman’s leg. 

There’s really nothing more embarrassing than this, and he can’t quite help but cough a little bit and feel a flush crawl up his spine and dust his ears. Soldier’s a bit thankful there’s only one flame to shed light on them, or else he might combust. Just a little bit. 

They haven’t really ever done this in full light. It almost replicates the days of their first friendship, when it was a secret that they didn’t want to tell. 

Because that meant they were only each other’s, and no one else’s. Soldier’s always felt a neat little streak of possessiveness over Demoman, especially towards what they do, and doesn’t think he’d get along too well with someone who might’ve wanted to take his place. The thought of that immediately makes Soldier’s mind whirl, pressing against his skull until it rattles with the image. 

(He doesn’t think Tavish’d ever leave him, but he doesn’t have the most pristine record when it comes to keeping people, power and murder hungry as he is.)

Soldier stops thinking when he feels more than sees Demoman give a tiny shudder. 

He doesn’t really want to ruin the mood, but he can’t quite keep a small laugh from escaping his mouth. 

“Yeah?  _ What?” _ Demoman asks, but there’s a laugh in his quirked grin and a comfort to his warm hands on Soldier’s thighs. He wants to ruffle his face along the line of Demoman’s mouth, so he does. 

Pitching forward with one hand clasped around the blanket to keep it from flying off, Soldier presses his teeth to Demoman’s chin. Licks the spot afterwards, too. There’s a rough texture to it, because he neither of them have gotten a decent shave in the past few days, but it bites Soldier’s lips just the way he likes it. 

And then Demoman’s using his teeth and  _ actually  _ biting Soldier, and it’s absolutely fucking perfect. He supposes that this was just the way things were, and how they were supposed to be. 

Dragging his hips up, Soldier grinds down into Demoman’s crotch. There’s a bit of take, before Demoman’s body seems to give, going lax and pliant against the soft mat they had placed on the cold, stone floor. He wraps the blanket around the two of them, and then they’re in a small pocket of warmth in a deep, dark cave. 

It feels sorely intimate, like this. When there isn’t much light to see but Soldier can  _ feel  _ it all, and it’s almost too much. 

Soldier kisses Demoman slowly, as if they don’t have to move in a few hours. As if it’s not cold enough to literally freeze their extremities off if they were to do anything besides hump each other through a few layers of clothing. As if this was something they were allowed to do in the first place.

 

* * *

 

 

(“Merry fuckin’ Christmas,” Tavish says, right against Jane’s lips as they both come down from their orgasms and their semen is seeping right into their clothing. He only stays still for another minute before shaking Tavish’s hands off of his body to get something to clean them with. 

It ends up being a stray towel he had in his kit, and as he pulls the cloth over their bodies, he whispers, “Merry Christmas, Tavish.”)

 

* * *

 

 

(And yeah, they’re fucking late to the mission because Tavish goads him into taking a short nap, but he’ll chew him out for it later. Literally, if possible.)

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr is palliris.tumblr.com so come yell @ me there


End file.
